


A little Less Conversation, And A Little More Action

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dad Spy, M/M, Speeding Bullet (Team Fortress 2)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: Sniper honestly had no idea the younger man he had picked up was Spy's kid. He swears.





	A little Less Conversation, And A Little More Action

Sniper stared in the mirror at his bleeding face and heaved a sigh. That was what he got for trying to shave, well really just for trying at all. Trying to look nice was, for the most part, something he had given up in his early twenties, as he got older and spent more and more of his life in an isolated sniper’s next or in his camper van on road, there were fewer and fewer reasons to try and impress anyone. After all, he wasn’t hired for his look, which he thought was rather fortunate, but for his aim. 

 

He licked the pad of his thumb and rubbed away the blood from his chin and then decided the clal the job done. His scruff was still mostly there but it was a bit neater than it had been, which he figured had to count for something. He rand a hand through his damp hair, trying to figure out how to make it lay flat without his hat, and turned his attention to his clothes, which he had laid out on the bed. Black pants and a grey button down shirt, both freshly laundered. He had hung them out to dry on the line, so there were a few wrinkles, but overall it wasn’t too bad. 

 

Spy wouldn’t like it no matter what he wore, so there wasn’t much sense in wasting time with worrying about it. He hummed to himself, some bit of nonsense that he had heard on the radio, as he pulled his pants on. He was going for the shirt when his phone buzzed. 

 

**HEY IM BOOOORED**

 

Sniper rolled his eyes when he saw the message. He had met the kid on the outer edge of town, while he was driving to the base. Hookups with near strangers weren’t his normal MO, bt he had made an exception. He was about to sign up for what would probably be his longest mission ever, and stationed in the middle of nowhere. 

 

He swiped his thumb across the screen and shot back a quick message

 

**Sorry kiddo, busy tonight**

 

He didn’t bother adding he would be busy almost all future nights as well. The kid was young and cute, e would lose interest and move on fast enough. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, he was supposed to be meeting the new people he was going to be working with in less than hour. Including the asshole Spy who was functioning as team leader for the foreseeable future. The Frenchman had a way of setting his teeth on edge.

 

With that in mind Sniper pulled on his shirt and then fished around on the shelf above his bed until he located the bottle of whiskey he had tucked away. He twisted the cap off and took a long pull directly from the bottle, taking a hissing breath through his teeth as he finished. He fished a flask out of a drawer and filled it up and tucked it in his pocket for later. He was sure he would be thankful he did.

 

The building the RED team was going to be using as a barracks and home base was nice enough, but he had parked his campervan around the back, so it was a short walk inside and into the ‘party’. Inside things were already started. There were a few people in suits milling about, people who worked for the company, and then his fellow mercs. 

 

The first people he saw were a man in a navy western shirt covered in white embroidery, and a slightly larger man wearing a worn looking Army dress uniform. They were both clutching tiny paper plates of fried shrimp and bacon wrapped figs and animatedly discussing the pros and cons of various historic guns.

 

“I ain’t saying American engineering is bad, far from it, but the M-16 was a disaster when it came out. If that had been my work I’d have hung myself in shame!” The man laughed and popped another piece of shrimp in his mouth, crunching down on it loudly. He had a low voice and a soothing drawl, placing him from somewhere in the american South. 

 

“Well, they didn’t know the humidity would be such an issue, and the cleaning kits did a lot to stop the corrosion problem!” The other man barked out a short bark of a laugh to emphasize his point and jammed three shrimp into his own mouth in some sort of display of dominance that also coated the front of his uniform in crumbs. 

 

Sniper sighed to himself and marched over, holding up a hand in greeting. “Hello, I’m the new sniper assigned to RED.” He forced something like a smile.

 

The man in the blue shirt set his plate down on a nearby table and wiped his hands before shaking, smiling warmly up at the sniper. “Nice to meet you. I’m the engineer.” His hands were large and calloused, and there were burn scars across the backs of his knuckles.

 

The man in the uniform just wiped his hand on his pant leg before sticking it out to shake. “I’m the soldier, although it’s a damn silly title considering we’re all gonna be in a war in a day or two.” 

 

Sniped gave a small chuckle at that and shook his hand. “Yeah, well, I won’t be in the thick of it like you. I like seeing the action from a bit more of a distance.” He turned slightly and grabbed himself a tiny quiche of a tray nearby and popped it into his mouth in a single bite. “So, I heard you talking guns. You know, I really prefer-”

 

His next words were cut off by two men shouting and rushing by, one chasing the other.

 

“Come back ‘ere ye demon!” A large black man in  a kilt and a rather soft looking cabled sweater screamed, launching himself over the back of a chair to chase after a much smaller figure. “Give it back!”

 

The person he was chasing was dressed in an ill fitting black shirt, jacket and pants, but their face was obscured by a black gas mask. They turned back at one point and shouted, but their voice was so muffled it was impossible to understand them.

 

The man in the kilt stopped by the little group and doubled over, breathing deeply. There was a sheen of sweat on his face and he wiped at it with his sleeve, taking extra care not to knock his eyepatch aside in the process.

 

“Ugh, damned thing stole my flask!” He shot a nasty look at the other side of the room. The person, or person adjacent thing, had put a bend straw into the flask and slipped the straw under their gas mask. 

 

“Ah, I gotcha mate.” Sniper dug into this pocket and produced his own flash, handing it over. “Here ya go.”

 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” The man took the flask with an air of reverence, tipping half the contents into a plastic cup and swallowing most of it down in a single shot. “Ugh, that hit the spot. I’m the demo man by the way.” He gave the sniper a tiny salute with his cup and handed the flask back.

 

‘Sniper,” the Aussie replied, tipping back his head and swallowing down some of the whiskey himself. “So who was that with your booze?”

 

“That would be the pyro,” Said a heavily accented voice behind him.

 

Sniper turned around to find himself staring at a handsome older man with spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and a massive bear of a man, who was holding three plates of food stacked on top of one another.

 

The man with the glasses placed his hand on the larger man’s arm. “Nice to meet you, i am the team medic, and this Heavy our tank.” The large man merely grunted in greeting, too busy with his food. 

 

Sniper knocked back another shot of whiskey and forced a smile, the alcohol beginning to feel warm in the pit of his stomach. “I’m the sniper. Which means I’ve just about met everyone. But I haven't seen-”

 

“Scout did you put  _ vodka _ in your bonk??” A man’s voice shouted, rising above the general din of the party. “Mon dieu, the things I must deal with.”

 

“Aw come on, Heavy gave it to me, and it’s just one drink!” Sniper stiffened at the sound of that voice. It was familiar, in a way no voice at that party should have been familiar. 

 

Sniper spun around and saw what he had thought was the last member of the team, the Spy, fighting with a smaller man over a plastic cup, the contents of which were spilling onto the floor and puddling around the frenchman’s expensive shoes. The man he was arguing with was wearing sneakers, slightly worn, and the flush of his cheeks implied the drink hadn’t been his first of the evening.

 

The spy managed to wrestle the cup away and tossed the contents in a garbage can, sneering at the boy in disgust as the liquid splashed inside the bag. “Ugh, I had better not find you sneaking booze from anyone else. I swear, keeping an eye on you will be the death of me long before any war.”

 

The boy rolled his eyes and turned his attention to a table of snacks, grabbing a handful of pretzels and shoving them in his mouth all at once. “Ymp mph ouf ysph” he replied, completely unintelligible through the spray of crumbs.

 

The Spy rolled his eyes behind his ski mask and turned to the rest of his coworkers. “Ah hello, nice to see everyone else is having a pleasant evening. Please excuse my my son. The little shit  thinks just because e was hired as our scout, that now he is a man and can do what he wants.” He gave a little chuckle, clearly amused at the very idea.

 

“Your...son?” Sniper echoed, the whiskey in his stomach no longer feeling as settled as it has. “I didn’t know anyone here knew each other.”

 

The spy shrugged and fished in his pockets for a cigarette. “That is the idea, yes, but he applied to RED without my knowledge. He lived with his mother until recently, I had no idea he was hired until he arrived on bus a few days ago. I tried to have him replaced, but to no avail.”

 

The kid swallowed his mouthful of food and let out a harsh laugh. Yeah well, that’s cause no one else is as good at what I do.” he turned his gaze upwards, eyes going wide as soon as they landed on the sniper’s face. “I uh…”

 

Anything else the kid was going to say was pushed aside as the pyro toppled a table at the other end of the room, leaning all the way across it in pursuit of a chocolate cupcake with a particularly generous amount of sprinkles. The sound and the resulting mess drew the attention of everyone a the party, giving Sniper just enough time to grab Scout by the arm and drag him down a side hall without much notice. As soon as they were out of sight he pushed the  boy into an empty room, kicking the door shut behind them.

 

“Kid, you have a bloody lot of explaining to do.” Sniper stared down his nose at the kid, who, despite the situation, seemed more on the verge of giggles than anything.

 

“Hey, hey! You never told me you were a merc, or anything else useful neither. I should be just as surprised as you.” The Scout gave the older man an innocent grin that looked well rehearsed, chin tucked down and eyes wide. 

 

“Hey, I wouldn’t have fucked you if I had known who your Daddy was.” Sniper groaned and desperately wished his flask were full. He needed a drink, several drinks in fact, to get through the rest of the night. There was a solid chance that if Spy found out, the Frenchman would try and kill him, team affiliation be damned. 

 

Scout shrugged and kicked out a foot, using his heel to pull Sniper closer. “Hey, you liked me calling you Daddy the other night, how about we focus on that instead of the frog huh?”

 

Sniper froze, body and brain suddenly disagreeing on the best course of action. In part because it had been an embarrassingly long time since he’d any action aside from Scout. He could feel his body becoming interested, it would be nice to just go along with Scout’s idea, to pull the boy flush against him and kiss him hard until those buck teeth cut into his lips. To turn the kid around and fuck him hard and fast against the wall. He could still hear the party going on, the commotion from Pyro’s mess dying down but being replaced with the normal dull roar of conversation and music. 

 

Scout seemed to sense the hesitation in the older man, and made the choice for himself. He grabbed Sniper by the shirt front and yanked him down so they were face to face, smashing their mouths together. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, the others they shared hadn’t been either. But it was wet and hot and good, and it was enough to encourage Sniper to act, grabbing Scout by the ass and yanking him up, pressing him against the wall and pinning him there with a knee between his legs. The move made Scout mewl like a kitten, He broke their kiss, tiny noises escaping from his mouth as Sniper moved to his neck, biting at the pale throat bared before him. 

 

Both of them were breathing hard, and they pulled at each other's clothes, desperate for more contact. Sniper took in a sharp breath through his teeth as the scout canted his hips up, seeking out more friction between them. It was a dumb idea, but e found himself roughly pulling the boy’s zipper down, revealing a hard cock, starting to leak, and nothing else.

 

“Fuck kid, you ever wear underwear? Or you not classy enough for that?” Sniper wrapped his long fingers around the warm length and squeezed, not quite stroking, just teasing the skin.

 

Scout whimpered and writhed. “I got a pair of lace panties in my bag upstairs if you want me to wear those next time.”

 

Sniper cursed and reached down to pull his own pants open, reaching through his boxers to free his aching cock. “God you are such a dirty little thing.” He shoved a few fingers into Scout’s mouth, eyes fixed on that mouth it wet his fingers, getting them ready for the next step. 

 

Sniper pulled at Scout’s pants, struggling to get them down further past his ass so he could slip a slick finger into him. Spit wasn’t ideal lube, but it would be good for the kid to hurt a bit, might even teach him some manners. His fingers was circling the kids hole, pulling out even more desperate noises, when he heard the distinct -click- of a revolver’s hammer being drawn back.

 

“I suggest you stop what you are doing, you filthy bushman, and get your hands off of my son.” The French accent sounded even thicker than earlier, with a biting edge to it.

 

Sniper stepped back quickly, letting Scout fall to the floor in an undignified pile.

 

“Hey, what the fuck?” Scout grumbled, pushing his hips in the air to pull his pants back up. “Ouch.”

 

“Shut up and make yourself decent,” Spy spat, not taking his eyes or gun off of Sniper. “And then I want you to leave this room, I will deal with you later.”

 

Sniper took advantage of the slight distraction to do his pants back up, figuring the odds of the other man murdering him went down a bit if the dick that had been inside his son was put away. “Ya know, I didn’t know he was your kid.”

 

“Yes, well I am happy to hear you got know Scout so well before fucking him, it is a comfort to me.” Spy rolled his eyes, fingers twitching on the trigger, but not squeezing. 

 

Scout pulled himself to his feet. “I’m right here ya know, you don’t to talk about me like I’m not even here.”

 

Spy shot his son a sideways look. “Yes yes, we will deal with your obvious daddy issues later, after I blow this man’s brains out.” He sighed and began to steady his fingers as if to shoot.

 

Sniper cursed and dropped low, kicking his foot out and sweeping Spy’s legs out from under him. At the same moment, Scout shoved his father, hard. The mix fo the two was enough to send the spy ass over teakettle, feet flying into the air and head hitting the floor with a sickening crack. Sniper had just enough presence of mind to kick the gun to the other side of the room before he noticed the blood. There was a slowly growing pool of blood spreading across the floor under Spy’s head.

 

“Oh fuck!” Scout jumped back just in time to spare his shoes. “I think he’s dead.” He crouched down and poked at his dad, producing no visible results. 

 

Scout felt his blood run cold. Damn damn double damn. He had killed someone, which normally was fine, good even, but this person was a teammate and not an enemy. He was also the father of his, well not boyfriend, but once you stick your tongue up someone’s arse they must be  _ something  _ to you, right?

 

“Ah fuck kid, I-I’m sorry.” He crouched down and awkwardly patted Scout on the shoulder, waiting for the inevitable crying and screaming. 

 

Scout just shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess.” he stood and stretched and then looked at Sniper coyly. “So you wanna go find another room and finish what we started?”

 

Sniper’s jaw dropped. The kid was in shock, that was the only possible explanation. Shock was making him act crazy. “You- you wanna go and have sex...after I killed your dad?”

 

Scout rolled his eyes, as if that was of no consequence. “Yeah, I mean, we only have like ten minutes or so before he respawns so if we leave now we can get some time alone.”

 

“Respawn? Sniper blinked a few times, the word oddly familiar.

 

Scout grabbed the older man by the sleeve and lead him out of the room, steering him past the party goers and outside. ‘Yeah, you gotta read your orientation packet man. But uh….later.”


End file.
